


Home Bound

by goldensouls



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, I Don't Even Know, I tagged mature just to be safe, Implied Mpreg, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6970570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensouls/pseuds/goldensouls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into the life at the Stilinski-Hale residence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Bound

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first completed and posted fic ever and my first ever Sterek fic. I hope you all enjoy it and please don't be too harsh lol. I was a bit shy about posting this but I have always wanted to write my own fic, especially a Sterek fic. I want to thank @lynnie for betaing this for me! It's greatly appreciated. Anyways, enjoy!

This is home.

Derek at his side and their pup in between them. They’re in bed now, the sunlight filtering in from the curtains Lydia insisted they buy. She swore the ones they previously owned were an abomination- _Seriously Stiles, their days are_ beyond _numbered-_ which, _rude._

The rays of sun splay across Derek and their pup’s cheeks and highlight both of their ridiculously sharp cheekbones. The alarm clock at his bedside reads only a few minutes past eight which leaves only a short interval of time for Stiles to appreciate the image before him being that both Sawyer and Derek will be waking soon. The pair run a strict schedule, something that Derek and Stiles once clashed horribly about in the beginning of their relationship.

In about ten minutes or so Sawyer will be crying for a bottle and Derek will be dressing and readying for his morning run which Stiles, and Sawyer, since they couldn’t really leave the pup alone yet, have been joining since the birth of the pint-sized pup. He’s actually been accompanying Derek on his nightly workouts too. Stiles’s goal since he found out he was pregnant was to get back to the weight he was before Sawyer after having him, though Derek promises he thinks Stiles is beautiful no matter his weight- _Gross Derek, I thought we agreed_ not _to share our feelings._ Which it’s good no, fucking great, that they can joke about sharing emotions and thoughts and feelings now seeing as it used to be a very touchy subject.

 

Stiles can recall one specific conversation he and Derek had had after a nasty run in with some harpies. It had been curtained with the ever present cloud of Derek’s inability at expressing himself precisely.

*

_“I’m fine Derek, fuck!” Stiles screeches, trying and failing to retch his wrist from out of Derek's ironclad grasp. And he is fine. Stiles hadn’t even actually been involved in any of the fighting that ensued, he’d been hiding- taking a breather- behind a nearby tree the entire time._

_Derek clenches his teeth, his eyes a blazing fire and his thick brows pushing together like they do every time Stiles has done something the former classifies as life threatening. “That’s not the point Stiles, you could’ve been crushed by those harpies,” he releases with a growl._

_And that, that, pisses Stiles off. They’ve had this talk millions of times and it always comes down to him being the human, the fragile member, the weak-link and Stiles is tired of it. “Yea, cause I’m human? I bruise too easily? Hit a little too hard and oops, there goes Stiles, right?_

_“Exactly.”_

_*_

Stiles looks back on the heated exchange with only slight annoyance now. Derek still has moments where his emotions evade him seeming to slip through his fingers like ribbons of raging forget-me-nots leaving Stiles clasping at nothing when trying to understand what Derek is truly thinking and feeling. Thankfully though they’re very few and far between.

Twelve minutes since Stiles has sluggishly peaked at his alarm clock and, as if on cue, Sawyer starts wailing these ear-shattering squawks only werewolf lungs would allow him to produce. Immediately Derek is blinking awake and reaching for his son even though the bleariness has yet to clear from his eyes. He grasps at air though, Sawyer already settled in Stiles’s arms as Stiles rests against the headboard and coos down at the pup. “Shh, tata has your milk,” Stiles stretches around to his side of the bed’s nightstand to pluck the pre-made bottle off of it and wiggle it in between Sawyer’s lips. He whispers a, “My hungry boy,” that if Derek weren’t a werewolf, he wouldn’t of heard.  

Sawyer urgently gulps the milk down with the strength Derek constantly swells with pride over, claiming it’s a sign that the pup will grow to be a strong alpha worthy of protecting his future pack. Stiles always berates Derek for jumping to the conclusion seeing as how their pup has only just been brought into the world, barely three months ago. Totally _not_ because he also hates the thought of Sawyer growing up so soon.

A warm hand encases his cheek and at once he knows it’s Derek’s because, well, he’s the only other person in the room and because he’d know those calloused hands anywhere. They’ve wiped away his tears before, held him during cuddles, and caressed his body a multitude of times. “Morning babe,” Stiles says before turning his head just so and delivering a sweet kiss to Derek’s palm.

Derek doesn’t answer at first, just stares at his mate with a slight smile hinting across his mouth. Then he leans in to plant a kiss to Stiles’s lips and drops one onto Sawyer’s temple as his personalized greeting. The pup makes no acknowledgement of it and continues to suck at the bottle’s nipple to get the last lick of milk before dozing off again. “Can you be ready in twenty?” Derek asks. Always straight to the point, Derek gives his swift version of a “good morning” and is on to the next thing on his agenda. Stiles of course knows he completes each task with the utmost love.

Stiles chances a glance down at Sawyer to see the pup nodding off before he could burp him. “Yea, let me burp the little wolf first,” he affirms while lifting the pup up to his shoulder and proceeding to pat his back until Sawyer emits a meek belch. Pleasant.

*

It burns. Fuck it burns.

Fuck all that is wholly, it burns.

Derek made him go an extra mile and a half this morning and _fuck_ did it burn. Derek had stood there with Sawyer strapped to his chest, a cup of coffee in one hand, and a whistle in the other, which, he blew every 10-and _-Derek-I’m-having-an-aneurysm_ steps Stiles took. Derek’s justification for doing so was because, “ _It's motivational Stiles_ ,” which Stiles had responded to with sharp panting gasps as he partly dragged himself around the egg-shaped cul de sac their residence was stationed on. Now though, Stiles stood in their kitchen dry heaving and gripping his chest, swearing he was near death.

“Sawyer, babe, I’m sorry you have to see your old man like this,” Stiles raggedly weezes out. The little pup in question gapes down at his father from where he’s still attached to his other father’s chest, drool sliding down his chin, droplets racing after each other. He regards Stiles with as much interest as a three month can muster, which is very little. Derek’s gaze skirts towards and away from Stiles and back to their son who’s creating an almost obscene puddle of spit on his sleeper. “You’re exaggerating,” Derek swipes an already spit-up-covered cloth from side to side over Sawyer’s entire lower face, “Besides, you wanted to lose the baby weight and I’m helping you do so.”

Stiles can feel his face scrunching up in disgust at the meager explanation. He scoffs, “I said I wanted to drop the extra pounds that came along with carrying Sawyer just like Brad Pitt dropped Jennifer Aniston, not suffer an epic death at 21.”

A loud gust of air sounds and then Derek is gathering him up in his arms and working a glass of water in between his lips that Stiles eagerly guzzles down. “Here, you oversized child,” Derek grumbles out who, contradicts the gruffness in his statement with the gentleness in his hands as he cradles Stiles’s cheek and steadies the cup to his mouth watching each bob of Stiles’s throat as he swallows.

It’s a brief few seconds of the only noises being the glugs Stiles’s throat makes as he swallows the liquid heaven and Sawyer’s gurgles and minute screeches. He finishes the water off with a slapping of his lips that rivals the loudness of Sawyer’s when he’s emptied a bottle though, Stiles will deny the resemblance till his death. “Thanks baby,” Stiles gushes before pushing out of Derek’s arms feeling at least halfway decent now.

He takes a moment to sit down and sip another two glasses of water before reaching for Sawyer. Derek and he make idle conversation of how they slept, what’s planned for dinner and, obviously, baby talk with Sawyer. An hour or two passes, or maybe it’s only twenty or thirty minutes, Stiles doesn’t know, but soon he’s examining the progress he’s made today, weight wise.

He knows realistically not much has changed, can change, in the few hours since the last abuse on his body also known as “working out” but,-

“I think I’ve already dropped a couple inches, babe.”

Which of course Derek has to huff so hard and roll his eyes so animatedly at that Stiles is concerned he pulled something. Sawyer then, naturally, blows a spit bubble and proceeds to spew his lunch all over the front of Derek’s favorite tshirt. (Derek impolitely plopped Sawyer back into his lap as Stiles was midway through eating the lunch Derek put together for him because, “ _You’re flailing Stiles,_ ” which, _supposedly,_ isn’t something good to do with a pup in your lap).

That’s his son.

*

It’s a quarter after six, Stiles has just plated everyone's dinner and is currently testing the milk for his pup on his arm for warmth. Said pup is happily gumming his grandfather’s nimble fingers, drool covering Sam’s, Derek’s father, hand though, Stiles is sure he doesn’t care just elated to be spending time with his grandpup.

Talia and Sam are always so busy what, with their high-tech computer business that’s hardly the self-run establishment it was now that their CFO passed away as well as Sam being one of California’s top lawyers, they hardly get to see Sawyer. That’s why it was quite a surprise when they called Derek asking if he and Stiles were home and if they could stop by for dinner. Of course Derek exclaimed a pleased “yes!”, ecstatic to see his parents again for the first time in a of couple months.

Now they’re all gathered around Stiles and Derek’s rectangular-shaped dining room table. Talia is mindlessly thumbing the blemishes of scrapes and food stains scattered along the surface of it while a lingering smile is spread across her lipstick coated lips. She gazes at her grandpup with rapt attention, her eyes full of fondness. She questions them, “So how’s fatherhood been treating you two?”, her stare never wavering from Sawyer.

Stiles takes a chance to sit down and hand off Sawyer’s bottle to Sam to feed Sawyer with before replying. “Mm, besides getting little to no to sleep, constantly whipping a tiny-” Derek shoots him an exasperated glance, “- _slightly smalle_ r human being’s ass,” Stiles knows how much Derek abhors when he compromises Sawyers size though, their pup is only a few months old and _is_ tiny, “and having absolutely no private time anymore,” he pauses to take a bite of the linguine on his plate, “I’m absolutely infatuated with our newest addition to the family and the duties that come along with taking care of him.” With that he dimples a grin over at his little man who returns the gesture with flashing his own toothless grin back at Stiles and squealing at whatever it is young pups unthinkingly fix their amusement on.

Sawyer’s such a happy, lively pup. Clearly something he didn’t get from his werewolf father.

_Kidding._

The heart eyes Derek is sending towards his little family has the apples of Stiles’s cheeks going a timid pink with embarrassment at Derek’s brash display of affection. Both Talia and Sam have their own smiles hidden behind taking bites of their dinner- Talia and their backs turned, entertaining Sawyer- Sam.

They’ve waited so long- years- to see that expression spread so helplessly across their sons features and they feel a gush of pride every time it appears. Stiles has been such a blessing to their son after all the heartbreak Derek’s gone through. Ruthlessly having to put down his highschool sweetheart after being tricked into giving her the bite, his next significant other turning out to be a psycho-killer hell bent on slaughtering his entire family, luckily not losing everyone but still losing a few cousins who were devoured in the fire that gobbled the Hale house, and finally, losing his sister to a rogue alpha that later turned out to be Talia’s brother, Peter.

It’s every parent's dream to see their children happy and after three years of a deep abyss of depression that clouded Derek’s existence at a mere 23 Stiles waltzed in, just a child himself, and gave Derek everything he never thought he’d have again. A family, requited love, endless joy. Everything.

*

Later that night he and Derek are snuggled as close together as they can get with their pup in between them. Miniscule snorts and whistles reverberate throughout their bedroom which, funny enough, aren’tt coming from Derek but, from Sawyer. Derek, as a matter of fact, was the one who discovered that Sawyer was the little snorer.

*

_Harsh puffs and gasps escape Stiles’s mouth as he falls back onto their bed, beads of sweat rolling off his naked body. After catching his breath he giggles looking up at their ceiling in the darkness swarming all around them, “It’s been too long since we’ve gotten to do this.”_

_Derek, the asshole, only has excessive amounts of perspiration to signify the activities they’d just gotten down to. He glances over, simpering smirk in place, “Mm, god knows I’ve missed that fine ass of yours.” He turns onto his side and wraps an arm around Stiles’s backside, giving it a squeeze as he drags him into his side; now they’re chest to chest. Stiles gives an indignant squawk and playfully swats at Derek._

_“You’re quite the romantic Mr. Hale.”_

_A hearty laugh bounces from out of Derek’s mouth and tickles the underside of Stiles’s neck. “Don’t-.”_

_He pauses mid sentence and at first Stiles thinks Derek is picking something up with his werewolf hearing but he hears whatever it is Derek is hearing too. It’s a stuttering noise, high-pitched and randomly sounding over and over again, coming from the baby monitor._

_The covers rustle as Derek gets out of bed to slip on a pair of boxers. He turns back to lock eyes with Stiles, “Stay here,” he pauses before adding, “please,” then softly pads down the hall to Sawyer’s room on high alert. Stiles is frozen in spot trying not to freak out over all the possibilities of what they both heard could be. Is it a burglar? Is the window in Sawyer’s room creaking again? Oh God, did Sawyer hurt himself?_

_Suddenly he’s out from under the sheets, scrabbling for the nearest article of clothing, and rushing towards his mate and pup._

_He wraps his long fingers around the door frame of Sawyer’s room once he makes the eight-or-so steps needed to get there. His eye are wide and frantic as Stiles tries to detect the problem. “Der?”, he halts his search once he spots Derek leaning over Sawyers crib with a dazed smile aimed down at their pup._

_“He’s snoring, Stiles.” Derek reaches a hand down and brushes it across Sawyer’s forehead. He snorts a chuckle and peers up at his mate, “Our two month old pup snores.”_

_*_

Both of the love’s of his life have been asleep for an hour or so as he continues to watch their chests rise and fall with each intake. Derek swears he can hear Stiles’s voice whisper “ _creeperwolf”_ into his ear as he patronizes him for his continued stalker like tendencies. It’s not his fault the two most beautiful creatures alive are lying in his clasp; he can’t not gape at them for hours on end.

He’d never vocalize that assessment simply because yea, he can share his thoughts and feelings and emotions now but, he’s not progressed far enough to divulge cheesy things like that yet. _Yet._ Derek would do anything to see that dazzling smile of Stiles’s and maybe now he’s still a little too emotionally stunted to share that part of himself with Stiles but, he will one day.

Until then he’ll settle for encasing his little family, his little home, tighter into his arms and watching over them until sleep envelops him as well.

This is love.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I'm on summer break now and have the time now to write as freely as I wish. I have a few ideas but, if anyone has any long fic prompt ideas I'm taking requests and would love to hear your ideas! Also, if I do write a long fic or another fic in general I was hoping someone would permanently beta them for me. Anyone interested can drop a comment below and I'll try my best to be in contact. Thank you for reading!


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